November eighteenth

Maybe it was the way I was brought up

But suppressing my hurt,

and pain has always been how I dealt with everything.

But for you,

I think you deserve for the tears to always roll ,

For the tears to run and fill the Nile

To fill the Nile you always told us to stay away from

Not to get too close to the edge

Because it will never look the same,

knowing that the house I grew up in,

Continues to exists next to it,

without you in it

You were what life was about in Sudan

You were what I would have travelled three thousand miles for

You were the earliest memory of love I remember.

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